MSN put an interesting headline up yesterday, “Man Claims Wife Beat Him”.  The story sounded oddly familiar and the article proved of interest.

            Unlike David Woods nick on his neck caused by his wife attacking him, I still bear the scar of where Patricia threw my grandfather’s piggy bank at me.

            Unlike David Woods, a police officer did not interview my children and I was arrested and charged with Domestic Violence back in 1993.

            This is my description of our domestic violence history from the first chapter of my book.

Domestic Violence

Patricia’s temper at times included a physical aspect. Before 1993 I obtained scars from when she threw an old fashioned alarm clock at me and when she threw my grandfather’s piggy bank at me, shattering it.

Not once in our sixteen years of marriage did I hit Patricia. Initially, I made no response at all. Unfortunately, this passive stance seemed to enrage Patricia even more and I began to receive real damage. Attempts at restraining Patricia also proved of limited value. She was not weak and she was very determined.

Frankly, physical assaults by Patricia were rare. We could go years between them. I also learned methods to minimize the risk. I avoided getting close to Patricia during an argument. If she approached, I backed off. I left the house when I could. Sometimes she would threaten me with suicide or destroying personal items. Musical CDs were a personal favorite of her’s to destroy. She never, never, threatened the children; but later, she would force the children to call me and beg me to come home. I am sure I tried to ‘time’ some fights also. If I knew Patricia was going to be upset about something, I would try and deal with it over the telephone so her rage would pass before I got home.

But in 1993, we had been married not yet seven years and I was far from refining my defense methods and there were a lot of stress factors.

Patricia was pregnant with Jessica and working with a boss she disliked. My company was in danger; we had just lost a contract that accounted for forty percent of our revenue. I was forced to work until ten or eleven trying to develop plans that would allow the company to survive but resulted in twenty people losing their jobs.

On top of it all, I had pneumonia as a result of an idiot physician assistant prescribing me a cough suppressant instead of something to clear out my lungs.

The result – instead of being home helping my pregnant wife or taking care of myself -- I was working late at the office trying to save my job due to someone else’s mistakes.

I came home a little after six to find Patricia in a rage. I went to the bedroom to change my clothes when she attacked me. I was simply too sick to leave and told Patricia this.  Naturally, she demanded I leave. When I refused, she left, leaving four year old Glen with me.

The next thing I know the police are knocking at the door and I am being grilled about assaulting my wife. I was sick, tired, and naïve. My objectives were simple, get the police out of the house. I had no intention of getting Patricia into trouble and I had no intention of making our problems part of a public police report. Frankly, I did not cooperate.

Unknown to me, Patricia had gone to a neighbor’s house and spun a yarn to both her and the police when the neighbor called them. Later, when I heard the tape of the interview between Patricia and the police, I was surprised it took them so long to arrest me. Since there was no physical evidence of violence, a gun magically appeared in the fight. The police never asked me about the gun. If they had there would not have been one to produce.

I was handcuffed and taken to jail. My parents lived out of town at the time so my Aunt bailed me out. There was an automatic twenty-four hour restraining order forbidding contact between the parties. I went to my office near the jail for a while and then checked into a hotel.

Patricia sensed a change in me that I did not; I was still sick and tired. She called me on my cell at least twice, once demanding that I come home to talk about this. I told her no, that there was a restraining order and I was not about to get into any more trouble. I refused to tell her where I was as I knew it was likely that she would show up. I had to get some sleep.

Patricia was right. Our private hell was now public. I remember my father lecturing me for even defending myself from Patricia’s assaults, his disappointment that I had allowed my marriage to sink to a level of physical violence. My job and future employability was in danger.

The stigma that is now beginning to be associated with domestic violence was not near the levels we encounter today, but the stigma existed for me. In my mind, a conviction on domestic violence would ruin my life.

I believe discussing this with Patricia was the first time I laid things out without regards to possible consequences or consideration for her reaction. The first time I simply told her what I was going to do with no consideration or allowance for her input.

I was going to hire an attorney. I would take any action ethical and legal to prove my innocence, including establishing Patricia’s problems if required. There was no discussion. I would not hear her question any decision I made. If she did not like it we would divorce.

Patricia’s response was to completely support my defense. My attorney told me that the DA would dismiss the charges if I went to counseling. Patricia and I went to counseling. The DA said that it had to be an approved domestic violence program. I began to attend one at Zia Counseling.

Patricia took independent steps to insure that we had a future together. First, she refused to go to any hearing, ignoring the subpoenas served on her. She attempted to get me to support this issue but I refused. I told her that she must make her own decision and that I would make mine. She even wrote a letter to the judge stating that it was a terrible mistake and that the officer had misunderstood her intentions.

Domestic Violence awareness had progressed to the point where judges did not listen to spouses that changed their minds about the charges, but you still had to produce the witness in court. After a failed hearing, the DA played for my attorney and I the tape of Patricia’s interview on the night the police arrested me. In retrospect, I imagine the DA sought to get me to plead to the charges. I never even considered it. I knew I was innocent and naively believed that the Machine would vindicate me.

What got me off the hook was Patricia unintentionally convincing the DA that the police arrested the wrong person. She did this by calling the DA’s office several times a day to talk about the case, hounding them until they realized that my version of the events had merit. They dismissed the charges before I completed the domestic violence counseling.